


Taking care of the problem.

by Anomalee



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Clothing Kink, Crossover, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12802392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anomalee/pseuds/Anomalee
Summary: Adam takes care of the problem. Featuring: his imagination and Chris' turtleneck.   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	Taking care of the problem.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble from a writing prompt I received for my Adam. The prompt was as follows:
> 
> Adam being sexually frustrated for one reason or another and what he does to combat that. Does he just shovel cereal into his mouth, drink a shit ton of liquor and watch the news or does he take care of the problem?  
> \---  
> This is the result. Featuring the muse of one of my RP partners, Chris "The Stray" Redfield, and one of Adam's ships. This particular Chris is the amnesiac Chris from the beginning of RE6, for context (from the bar in his civvies). Adam has a thing for turtlenecks now.

Finding the shirt mixed in with his own clothing had been unexpected. Questions about when and how it had ended up there began to formulate in his mind. Adam couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember packing it into his things at the hotel room. He couldn’t remember seeing the Stray do it either.

The Stray..

Onyx fingers rubbed at the dark fabric thoughtfully. Tightly woven with it’s regular pattern it was pleasant to the touch. Adam brought the shirt to his face and inhaled deeply. Smoke. Vodka. That cheap hotel soap. Fabric softener. His scent.

The Stray.

Deeper into the fabric he pushed his face; inhaling deeper. Adam closed his eyes.

Large, strong hands upon his hips. His own, travelling down that sculpted chest, that broad back, that tight ass, that… That gaze; tentative, but fired by desire.

Fuck.

The heat of Adam’s own desire was stirred awake and it danced across his skin, prickled down the back of his neck, and bloomed in his stomach. “Hud off” he mumbled, muffled into the turtleneck. He didn’t give a shit what his Sentinel system had to say right now about his vitals. He was busy thinking about other things.

One hand let go of the turtleneck and wandered down down to the front of his pants. Hard.

Fuck… Fuck. When did this happen? When did this become such a thing?

Adam staggered, almost clumsily, to his desk chair; the one hand undoing his fly as he made his way. He pushed his pants down from his hips enough to free himself of them and collapsed into his chair; his face still pressed into the turtleneck.

He found himself with the palm of his hand and began to stroke his cock; slow at first and lingering at the top of each upward movement before he began to pick up the pace. So good. Oh, so good. Adam’s mind wandered as his hand moved rhythmically. It wandered to the hotel room, to his time spent with the bearish man, his unexpected companion, and he inhaled deeply again.

Adam remembered the heat of the Stray’s body, then, and how it felt up against his own. His momentum increased and with it his breaths grew quick and shallow and his heartbeat quick. The heat in his loins turned to fire. A low grunt became a muffled moan into the turtleneck as Adam found release.

“Fuu–ck.”

Leaning back, Adam looked at the ceiling; the fan oscillating lazily, silently there. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. The hand holding on to the Stray’s turtleneck fell heavily to his desk and finally released it’s grip; fingers lingering on the ribbed fabric.

So, this had happened, it was a thing. He’d have to put the Stray’s shirt somewhere.. safe and mention he had it the next time they spoke…


End file.
